


Dependencies

by lokixarchangel



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Artist!Virgil, Do not post to other sites, M/M, Mafia Boss!Logan, Professor!Logan, analogical - Freeform, dark themes, professor/student, student!Virgil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2020-12-27 19:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21124307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokixarchangel/pseuds/lokixarchangel
Summary: Logan and Virgil are entirely different. Virgil is messy, clumsy, and an art student who can barely eat while standing up. He's also selectively mute. Well, more like he hates talking to people. He usually can't without trusting the person he is talking to. So he just doesn't. Unless he absolutely has to. And when he gets Logan as his math teacher, he has no choice but to ask for tutoring.Logan is very neat, very controlled, and also happens to control an entire mafia while also using a gig as a teacher as his cover job. His emotions are... hard to come by, but he could barely be considered cruel. However, any emotion he does feel is intoxicating to him. He needs it. And he tends to attach to it, become addicted to it. And when Virgil Storm comes into his presence, Logan immediately starts to feel something... Though he isn't sure what.





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, our darkest secrets aren’t the ones we hide the most. For Logan, possibly his lightest secret was the one he hid the most. To quickly raise in the ranks, he had to give an appearance of being cold. Unfeeling. Sociopathic. And while yes, he could be considered a sociopath, he could feel some things. Anger. Love. Lust. Happiness. As much as Logan tried to hide this secret, the feelings were drugs for him, just as addicting as Heroin or Cocaine. And anything that sparked these feelings was considered precious to him. He _needed_ it.

However, Logan was incredibly intelligent. This was perhaps how he managed to keep himself from gaining a… dependence. And perhaps how he rose so fast in the ranks. He’d learned by now to never do his own dirty work and to stay detached from it, as well. Lest whoever does it is stupid enough to be caught. Many of his higher-ups had not learned this and of course paid the price for it, once the police caught on. Another lesson he’d learned from observing his higher-ups was to never leave a paper trail. Of course, keep track, but always have a fail-safe. Logan had taken to keeping his documents in a barrel that one could simply throw a match in and light it up. He’d also learned not to trust the internet unless using some kind of code. Unfortunately, lackeys were not good at recognizing and remembering codes. So, he just left all of his business to over throw away phones and in business. Maybe requests and commissions could be taken over the internet, but through nothing that could be traceable and he was always sure to keep his interactions vague, going through a lackey who typed differently so even that couldn’t be tracked. And possibly the most important thing he’d learned; have an excellent cover. His being a math professor. He was seen as dorky by his students. No one would ever even suspect him of being who he was.

Of course, maintaining of these self-imposed rules required immense discipline. Possibly even an obsession with order and control. Fortunately, Logan had both of those qualities.

Virgil was the opposite. While Virgil was clever, he wasn’t very academic. And his darkest secrets were the ones he kept deepest inside himself. Virgil also had a problem with feeling too much. All of his life, he’d been considered too emotional. Too… anything, really. He’d been told this many times. He figured by this point that if he was too much for people, he might as well not bother them. Other people never usually had anything interesting to contribute, anyway. He was also incredibly out of order.

His room was usually a disaster. And he managed to trip over everything. You’d think this would lead him to keep the floor clean, however, he just didn’t care enough to bother. He also didn’t care to bother cooking, so he’d become accustomed to eating ramen and anything microwaveable. And take out, when he could afford it. He didn’t have a job, however, he received money from his parents and an allowance from what was left of his college fund and then later some weird source? On to that, later.

His parents weren’t wealthy, however, and his college fund’s remains were not grand. So, he sometimes had to go without a meal or two. Whatever, though. It wasn’t a big deal to him. He barely thought about it.

Virgil had taken up art to keep from thinking about certain things. It was much easier to ignore issues if he was focusing on lines and color schemes, instead. Art was also a way to release pent up frustration, sadness, even happiness. You’d think happiness couldn’t be pent up but when you talk to literally no one, well… it happens. So, he’d found an outlet. A relief. And just as emotions were intoxicating to Logan, art was just as intoxicating to Virgil. Granted, he wasn’t making art most of the time, but he was usually thinking about it. Plotting out pieces he wanted to make, deciding where to fit yet another piece on his wall, what color fit what he was feeling, etc. Honestly, the thoughts alone seemed to help at this point, allowing him an outlet where there wasn’t usually one.

* * *

Virgil stumbled into Logan’s sight when he went to his first math class. Stumbled being literal, as Virgil almost tripped and hit his head on the fire extinguisher by the door. Luckily, he was early, always terrified of being late to a class due to having to walk in and everyone watch him walk to his seat. The idea filled him with dread. He hated it. So he made sure to be early to each class. Being early also had the perk of getting to choose his seat. Which he quite enjoyed. He almost always chose a seat in the back, however, math was a difficult subject for him, so he begrudgingly sat in the almost front. Okay, really, he usually sat in the middle of the class. People in the back were usually considered to be angsty, in the front to be go-getters. And nobody thought about those in the middle. It was the perfect place. But in college, with large class sizes, sitting in the middle often meant being unable to focus for Virgil. And since he already struggled with math, he usually decided it would be best for him to sit closer to the front.

He was already dreading this class, however. As he knew he would likely be close to failing it if he didn’t ask for help. He’d struggled enough the year before. This year would likely be the same, if not worse. So he was already gearing himself up to have to talk, blegh, to his teacher in order to ask for tutoring options. Much fun was in store for him this year, because then he’d have to talk to whoever was tutoring him. Yay. Oh well, he was taking two art classes this year, so at least he had that. He was already finding himself daydreaming about them. They were independent art classes, which basically meant he got to create whatever he dreamed about creating.

So at least the year wouldn’t be so bad, right? And he was… mostly fine in all of his other classes. So no tutoring there. Just math would be difficult.

As expected, he spent most of the class way behind and struggling to comprehend what the professor was saying. The professor was semi-friendly. Was mostly that dry professor who was kind but you could tell they wouldn’t take your shit. Virgil tended to like those professors, as they usually left him alone, unable to remember every student. Unfortunately, once Virgil would make his presence known to this professor, he was sure they would remember him and he’d be stuck dealing with them until the end of the year. Yay, again. At least this professor wasn’t a fast talker. That would be a struggle if they were. Well, more of a struggle, anyway. He was able to catch some detail, so it definitely helped. He’d taken to writing, in messy inconsistent shorthand, what the professor was saying to try to organize later. He never really got around to later, but hey, he was trying, at least, right?

His anxiety got worse and worse throughout the class, and needless to say, this was not helping his focus. He was dreading having to ask for help. So it was making his anxiety flip out. However, he managed to swallow it, tapping out his racing heartbeat on his stomach in his pocket as he went up to the professor’s desk at the end of class. “Professor? Can I talk to you?”

“Of course, Mr…”

“Storm. I’m Virgil Storm. I um… Well, I have a tendency to struggle in Math and I was hoping you could have any tutoring recommendations?” Virgil asked, almost too quiet, but luckily he was heard.

The professor nodded and seemed to glance Virgil up and down. “I do offer tutoring hours of my own. I typically teach until five and I offer to tutor between 5 and 9. However, I will only allow up to an hour, since I’m assuming tutoring will have to be a regular thing?”

Virgil turned red and nodded in answer to the question. “Yes, unfortunately.” He was managing to slow his tapping, though. Which was good.

His professor laughed, suddenly, and then stated, "goodness, you don’t have to keep standing. Sit and we’ll discuss a time to meet up.“

Virgil turned red again and pulled up a chair, sitting in it and slouching slightly. "Since this is my last class of the day, I think tutoring at five would be helpful… So I could just hang around here, you know?” And his tapping sped back up, worried the professor would think that was a dumb idea.

“That would work out. I suppose it might help you to remember, as well.” He nodded.

Virgil relaxed and nodded again. “That too. I’m sorry, I forgot your name…”

“Oh, of course. It’s Logan Fairling. It’s fine if you just call me Dr. Fair, however.” Dr. Fairling answered, nodding

.Virgil nodded a bit and relaxed more. He knew he tended to overthink, but it really was a relief when he was wrong. “Thank you, Dr. Fairling. When do you think it would be best to start?”

“Hmm…” Dr. Fairling stopped and seemed to think for a moment. “Perhaps today. Since we already started with a lesson, I believe it might be good for us to start sooner rather than later.”

Virgil was a bit surprised but he decided Dr. Fairling was right. It would be good to start earlier. However, he was already nervous about it. What if Dr. Fairling decided Virgil was too dumb to be helped? That he was helpless? It got too much to keep tapping out his heartbeat, so he switched to fidgeting with the sleeves instead, making sure to hide it under the table. “Alright. That sounds like a good plan. I’ll come back here in an hour.”

“Perfect.” The professor nodded and then allowed Virgil to leave.

As Virgil left, he rubbed his throat, finding it a bit sore after talking so much when he usually didn’t.

  
As Virgil left, Logan leaned back in his seat, tapping his pen against his chin. “Hmm…” He felt something unfamiliar but not unknown start to bloom. However, he just couldn’t identify it. However, he did know that Virgil was already quite… intriguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hello! I am back with a new fic from... an entirely different fandom! However, I am still working on the other one. And the next chapter should be ready to go in a week or two. But enjoy my new fic start!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has a conversation with a “nemesis” and decides to set a man out to watch Virgil. He doesn’t quite understand his concern but he knows it’s there and that he will feel better with one of his men watching Virgil

Virgil tapped his fingers on the wall again as he waited for it to turn to five o'clock. He’d just pretty much hung out around the area, nervous to be late. Or worse, forget. He figured if he stressed about it, he wouldn’t forget. He was luckily very right. And he had definitely been stressing about it. 

The tapping of his fingers had stayed at an alarmingly fast pace. He was still nervous about fucking something up and Dr. Fairling deciding he was hopeless. It could happen. Shut up. When the time finally came, Virgil stepped into the classroom, knocking on the doorway to get his Professor’s attention. 

Dr. Fairling looked up from what was likely lesson plans and smiled. “Mr. Storm, come in.”

Virgil shuffled over to the desk and sat down. “You can just call me Virgil, I don’t mind.”

“Alright, Virgil.” Dr. Fairling nodded and got out some folders. 

Virgil looked at the folders, trying to figure out what they were. One was blue, another red. And the last was purple. When Dr. Fairling opened the purple folder, Virgil saw lesson plans and keys. Dr. Fairling got out the first plans and then asked Virgil to get out a notebook, which he promptly did.

The tutoring ended up being as one could expect, boring and not helpful. Virgil still had trouble with it. He just couldn’t wrap his brain around it. So, Dr. Fairling just sent him back to his dorm with a request for him to come back the next day, despite him not having the class that next day. “We’ll conquer it tomorrow. In the meantime, get some rest. Sleep can help the brain to process information better.” So Virgil did as told, hoping he’d do better the next day.

Logan gathered up his stuff when Virgil left, knowing he’d have no other students needing tutoring on the first day. He tried to consider a way to help Virgil but it seemed to be too big for Virgil to just get. Perhaps if he broke it into tiny pieces… Maybe spread it out so Virgil didn’t get overwhelmed by the bigger picture. He noted that in his plans and then headed to his home, sighing as he saw a black sports car in the driveway. “Of course.”

He went to the house and then inside. “Damien.” He said, not even looking at the man on his couch. Damien smirked. The entire left half of his body was covered in an acid burn scar. The source of which was still unknown. “Logan.” He leaned back and crossed his legs.

“What are you doing in my house?” Logan set his bag down and poured two glasses of Jack Daniel’s, going and handing one to Damien before sitting down.

“Because I wanted to visit my favorite nemesis. And inform you that you’re going to have problems soon. There’s a rat in your midst.” Damien deadpanned at the last statement before smirking again. “One of my snakes caught them making deals with another Lord.”

“So that’s where Jack went.” Logan nodded, thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose I should thank you.”

“Don’t even. Pest control, really. However, we suspect they managed to get information out.” Damien took a drink out of his glass, yellow leather daintily but somehow still firmly gripping the glass. “I’d be happy to lend a snake to help you out.”

Logan laughed and took a drink out of his own. “You know I’d never trust one of your men. Thank you, however, for the offer.”

Damien pouted, mocking offense, before giving a dark laugh. “Anyway, that’s all I needed to tell you.”

He set down his glass on the coffee table. “Actually, I have a question. I was wondering how you manage to avoid attachments. You have no one to hold as a weakness. It’s infuriating how you manage to do that.”

Logan shrugged, finishing off his glass and sighing. “Well, Damien, I suppose it’s a side effect of intelligence.” He chuckled at him.

Damien rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He got up and brushed off his suit. “Tell Patton I said hello.”

“Likewise to Remus.”

Damien nodded and then just walked out the door. Well, more strutted.

Logan rolled his eyes and locked the door before locking the entire house, putting in the passcode. He then got ready for bed, before his mind drifted to Virgil.

The boy had seemed so… Scared. Which was unusual when he was in his persona. Sure, some seemed nervous but not actually scared. He got out his phone and dialed Patton. “Patton? Hello. I have someone new for you to watch. Virgil Storm. He’s a student at the college I work at.”

Patton had barely managed to get a word out before he was given an order, sighing and then letting out a long whine. “But Logan! I have better things to do?”

“Like what?” Logan huffed.

Patton was quiet for a moment. “Alright, fineeee. Hey, wait, why do you want this info, anyway?”

“Because i- well, I- that’s none of your concern!” Logan exclaimed and then hung up.

Patton rolled his eyes at the cell phone, heading to find Virgil. 

The boy in question was painting in his room, soothed by it. 

His roommate, Roman, had gotten home already and was singing rather loudly in the shower. 

They had a complicated relationship. Virgil and Roman both had no friends. However, where Virgil was an introvert and happiest that way, Roman was an extrovert and tried to hide that he was lonely. Virgil knew better, though. He could see Roman was very lonely. 

Both boys had decided they were not friends though. They were too different. But they still hung out, occasionally. Roman did his best not to have a hook up over when Virgil was home. Virgil didn’t listen to loud music if Roman was home. 

They were courteous to each other. But that was it. 

Virgil rolled his eyes at the show tunes his roommate was singing and lightly hit the wall to tell him to knock it off before continuing to paint.

Roman quieted, though he could still be heard. Virgil chuckled and put some details.

He was painting the sky but it was in lilac and plum shades. He was particularly good at monochromatic works, and that showed in what he did. Though, mostly, he did skulls and flowers. Those were the ones mostly around his room. 

He was proud of them, stopping to look at them again. His favorite was a skull with flowers and vines growing on it.

He had it in a spot where it could be easily seen. He turned back to his painting and set it to dry, getting his shimmer glaze set up. These particular paintings he kept from sight. 

He didn’t want anyone to see this side of him. The softer feminine side. 

While the glaze thickened, he laid on his bed, playing on his phone and then thinking about Mr. Fairling. Luckily, the tutoring session hadn’t gone how he’d been worried it would. But he still was nervous. He still hadn’t gotten it. And he had to go back tomorrow to try again. That was pretty nerve-wracking. If he didn’t get it again, surely then Dr. Fairling would realize how stupid he was and decide he was beyond help. He really wished his head would shut up. Dr. Fairling looked fairly young for a professor. But he was apparently in his fourth year. Had graduated very young. A child prodigy and all that. Which made sense on how he already held the doctorate title while being in his fourth year of teaching. But, still. It just seemed odd that he was so young.

Virgil just sighed and tried to shake the thoughts out of his head, noticing that his painting no longer had a sheen to it. That meant it was fully dry. He got out his cardboard box with some twine making a grid across the top, then laid the painting on it. He very carefully got the cup with glaze in it, stirring it before pouring it on the painting. Already, the painting shimmered. He got his large brush and spread out the glaze until it completely covered the painting.

The glaze would dry to be matte, and also protect the painting underneath. The glitter in it was a fine pearlescent powder, making it so the painting underneath could still be seen. He’d used a small amount, wanting the glaze to stay transparent.

When it was coated, he left it to dry, changing into his pajamas and then sighing as he laid down. He had fewer classes the next day, but since it was a Tuesday, they were much longer. Which was gonna be so much fun?

He had a fun schedule set out for him. 


	3. Chapter 3

It really is no surprise that Virgil stressed himself out so much he got sick. He was so nervous about tutoring that he'd made himself puke. Well, he hadn't made himself. It just happened.

He still has to go to his classes, though. So, he gathers his stuff up and heads out, feeling overwhelmingly not good.

His head was aching from the puking and he felt exhausted. His body ached as well. But he still managed to walk to his class, lethargic. Luckily, he only had a few. And Dr. Fairling's tutoring.

Really, the tutoring was why he'd stressed out so bad.

His first class was art history. He was taking it again. It was a known fact that everyone majoring in art took the class twice because the teacher was a total shit head. He graded based on opinion and took off major points for silly things, like using an odd verb tense or misusing a comma. Virgil had managed to get an entirely different teacher this year. 

He stepped in, twenty minutes early despite the puking, and frowned as he saw the empty room, devoid of even a teacher. He checked to be sure the room was the correct one, frowning as he saw it was. Okay... 

He sat in a desk and put his earbuds in for a moment, jumping when he saw a hand wave in front of his face. He frowned as he noticed the class was filling up, checking the time. Oh. He'd zoned out for quite a bit. He looked over the arm and up to the head attached, pulling out an earbud when he realized it was Roman. 

"Dude, you gotta come with me." He grabbed his arm and pulled him. 

Virgil frowned. "Hey, wait, what's going on?"

"Morning classes have been canceled. Some idiot in the science lab set the classroom on fire and a lot of professors are having trouble getting to their classes due to the fire trucks." Roman shrugged. 

"Yeah, but like.. why are you grabbing me?" Virgil frowned, managing to finally pull his arm back. 

"Because I know you," Roman shrugged, stopping, "you'll get super anxious and make yourself sick again." 

"Again-" 

"I heard you this morning."

"Oh. Sorry." Virgil looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. "Aw, shit, I hope my tutoring isn't getting canceled this afternoon..." Virgil frowned and sighed.

At the same time, Virgil desperately hoped it was. Please let him push this off another day. Please. He really didn't wanna go. He checked his email to see if it was, while Roman rambled about coffee places and eventually led Virgil to one. Virgil, after being disappointed at a lack of email, started to wonder why Roman was wanting to hang out suddenly. He thought over the last few days, frowning. He couldn't really think of a reason...

It was odd. Oh well, best not to look too deep. 

Roman continued to ramble after they got their coffee. However, he shut up after a long moment. "Hey, Virge? When was the last time you had a hookup?" 

Virgil choked on his coffee. "I... Um... Why?" 

"I dunno, there's a man who seems to be checking you out," Roman smirked. Virgil whipped his head around to look. 

He looked around the rest of the cafe before his eyes settled on very familiar brown ones. Immediately, Virgil felt like he couldn't breathe, gasping and turning back to Roman. He scrambled to get up, yanking Roman with him and out the door, quickly. He tried not to run, knowing that would look weird. The street corner was crowded, so he knew he and Roman were safe.

"Hey, dude, what's going on?" Roman tried to ask, but Virgil kept pulling him, determined to get away. Away from those eyes. From him. He soon pulled Roman into an alley, gasping for air. 

He sunk down to his knees, holding his stomach as he felt like he had a gaping hole in it. He looked at the opening of the alley, yanking Roman behind a large crate, with a blanket and pillow inside, as he watched the man who owned the too-familiar eyes walk past. He looked into the alley, stepping in and looking around before shrugging and leaving again. 

Virgil leaned against the crate, pushing his hands through his hair. He took deep breaths before looking over to Roman. "Sorry... I..." 

"No, I get it. I have my own... scary people." Roman smiled sympathetically and sat by Virgil, leaning into him. 

Patton frowned as he watched Virgil and his roommate scramble out of the cafe, attempting to follow them. He ended up losing them in the crowd, instead going back in time to see a man exit. The man was in his mid forties, with dark hair and brown eyes. He had a smirk on his face and looked through the crowd, before stopping at an alleyway. Patton followed, making a voice note on a small voice recorder. He stayed hidden in the crowd as he watched the man shrug and walk away before heading to the alley. 

Maybe a good way to watch his new "charge" would be to get closer. He almost did until the roommate got up, running a hand through his hair. Patton quickly hid, blending into the crowd again. He watched the roommate stretch and then pull Virgil up. He barely was looking at Virgil, though, instead his eyes were on his roommate. What had Virgil called him? Roman?

It fit. Patton let himself be carried away by the crowd, murmuring "Roman" to himself a few times before smiling. "Roman."


End file.
